He Was the Only One
by GrellsLilSecret
Summary: Grell had been searching for love for so long when she found Michael. At first, everything seemed perfect, but things rarely are precisely what they seem. *Trigger Warning* Domestic Violence. This story is my attempt to accurately portray abusive and destructive relationships. There is also a discussion about suicide.
1. Chapter 1

**He Was the Only One**

 _Please note: Some sections of this story, such as the first one, are taking place in 'present' time while the other sections are flashbacks. This is to contrast how the relationship began compared to where it is now._

 **Chapter 1:**

In the darkness of the night, her clocked ticked explosively loud as it slowly counted down the seconds. Her heart beat almost as loudly as it filled her ears with a rhythm that steadily grew with each tick of the clock, but Grell laid in bed without moving and without speaking as she tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately, the chaos swirling about her brain was far louder than any of the noises, and she knew that attempting to sleep was nearly futile despite her body's need. She sighed loudly.

A creak, a soft as a whisper, sounded through the house, and Grell felt herself instantly freeze. He had finally arrived home, so she instantly shut her eyes and tried to force her tense muscles to relax. When she was asleep, she often snored or stop breathing all together, so she held her breath when he entered the room in an attempt to create the illusion she was sleeping. It made her slightly dizzy to not breathe while awake, but she didn't really want to face him right now. There would be questions as to why she wasn't asleep, and she had no answers that would suffice. Of course, if he figured out she was just pretending to slumber that would only lead to more questions and accusations. She could roll over and pretend to wake up upon hearing him enter the room, but there was no guarantee that would stop an argument or the never ending questions. Silently, she focused on remaining still as possible as she hoped that they could avoid the routine for just this night.

Luck seemed to be on her side for once as she heard him undress and crawl into bed. He made no move to touch her, and soon she heard his familiar soft snore. Exhaling softly, she relaxed slightly as she opened her eyes to peer into the darkness once more. She had no idea how she had gotten into this situation or how she was going to escape, but one thing was for certain.

It hadn't always been like this.

((x))

"I don't like this," Ronald complained as he took a violent swig from the cup in hand as if trying to create a physical exclamation point.

Grell smiled at the younger reaper, although she was as uncomfortable as he appeared to be. "Ronald Knox doesn't like a party?" she asked, "I never thought I'd hear such a thing."

"Not the party," hissed Ronald in a whisper, "Them!" He gestured with his cup to a group of well-dressed men standing on the far side of the room. "Why is Upper Management here? They've never come to one of our office parties before. How can I relax knowing that they're watching me like that?"

"I don't think they're watching just you," Grell replied with a laugh, "We're all on display here. Maybe they just wanted to see how we peons actually partied before going back to their cold boardrooms and probably colder beds. Perhaps we should really show them. What do you think?" Without waiting for a reply, Grell sat her cup down on a nearby table and sauntered over towards the unfamiliar men. She was still dressed in her work clothes as William had insisted in only professional dress, but her exaggerated walk still drew their attention. From across the room, she could feel the weight of the eyes of her colleagues, and she realized that they probably thought she was crazy. That didn't matter since most already had that opinion of her anyway, and this was only confirming their suspicions.

"Hello, gentleman," she purred as she batted her eyelashes, "Having fun?"

A nervous cough echoed from somewhere in the back of the group as the blank, nearly expressionless faces were all focused on her. "This party appears to be satisfactory," a tall man with wheat colored hair finally stated, "Research has shown that social gatherings among coworkers builds necessary morale to ensure success."

She allowed her smile to grow as she eyed him like a lion stalking a gazelle. "Oh, we haven't got started yet," she said. Stepping forward, she gently fingered his black, silk tie. "Just wait until all this liquor kicks in. I'm afraid that none of us, especially me, will be responsible for our actions. Then it's time for…group activities." This was a complete lie as the drinks provided were weak and she had only had a few sips. Although she did drink socially, she actually didn't like being drunk, and there had never been anything resembling an orgy at any office party. If there had been, they would have probably ended up collecting William's records as he would no doubt be the first reaper in history to die of a heart attack.

Hearing the murmurs tiptoeing about the room and seeing looks of shock pass over the previously blank faces, she walked away and took up a position against a far wall. There was nervous laughter, but everyone was finally starting to talk and relax. Of course, she was the subject of their conversation, but she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter. Everyone would have talked anyway, and this way Upper Management had something in common with the field agents. They all thought she was insane. William would no doubt reprimand her later for this little stunt, even though it had been successful. After all, she had played her part perfectly. It just so happened her part was that of the outsider.

"That was quite a show," a soft voice suddenly announced close to her ear.

Turning she found herself facing a rather tall man with brown hair that was slightly wavy despite his efforts to keep it slicked back. She had never seen him before, and it was obvious that he was part of Upper Management from the cut of his suit, but there was a warmth to his smile that his colleagues were lacking. He was a handsome, if not striking, man, but she only smiled back coolly as she wasn't sure if he could be trusted.

"Who says it was a show?" she asked.

He laughed gently. "Oh, I know an actress when I see one, even one as talented as you. I've been watching you, Miss Sutcliff. Of course, that's not all that difficult. You're not exactly one that can blend into a crowd."

Grell's heart leapt into her chest as she realized that he had used the terms 'actress' and 'Miss' when referring to her. It was something she fought with daily, but this man had been the first to address her correctly without being prompted. "You seem to know a lot about me," she said, "but I don't even know you're name."

"It's Michael," he said, "Michael Summer. And yes, I do know a lot about you. Your name is…well-known, and I have to say the stories intrigued me. I confess, I did a bit of research, although I have to say you still manage to exceed all expectations."

Although she smiled as if this was old news to her, Grell was more than a little nervous. She knew there were more than a few unsavory rumors about her, so she was afraid as to what Michael had heard and what he expected. It was complimentary that someone had taken the time to learn more about her, but this was a brand new experience for her. "I never did like to simply meet expectations, darling," she said, "Where's the fun if you can't surprise someone?"

He laughed again. "I'd really like to get to know you better," he said, "Maybe I could meet you after work one day and we could grab a quick bite to eat."

"Are you sure you want to?" she returned, "I might just turn out to be more than you can handle." Her words were teasing, but in truth she was partially afraid to set up such a date. There had been more than a few men who simply wanted to see if she was as crazy as the rumors said or as promiscuous. Although she hadn't formed much of an opinion of Michael, she really didn't want to get her hopes up only to find that a careless and hurtful rumor had destroyed her chances at love once again.

"I'd like to at least try," he said, moving closer, "I might surprise you with what I can handle."

"Sutcliff," William called from the doorway of his office, "A word please."

She sighed dramatically. "I have to go, my dear," she said, "A lady like myself is always in demand."

"So what shift do you work tomorrow?" Michael asked.

"I…uh, I'm not sure if we should set up something so quickly," she managed. It was harder to keep up her act of confidence with all the doubt racing through her mind.

"Sutcliff!" William's impatience was showing.

"I have to go," she said, "Perhaps fate will bring us together another time!" She skipped towards William without even glancing back in Michael's direction. Although she had enjoyed the attention, she didn't really think that the man was sincere. It was doubtful she would ever see him again.

((x))

Grell stretched her arms as she walked out of dispatch as she allowed her gaze to drift over to the setting sun. There was no real daylight or night in the reaper realm, but the illusion had been put into place supposedly when the first reapers had been reborn. It had something to do with the passage of time and circadian rhythm of bodies that still remembered what it was like to be human. Normally, she didn't take the time to dwell on such matters, but it did look like such a nice evening with the distant buildings taking on such a lovely hue of rose and gold. She breathed deeply in satisfaction.

"You never told me what time you got off work, Miss Sutcliff," a voice gently reprimanded.

Jumping slightly as her thoughts were jerked back into reality, she turned and saw Michael standing there casually; his broad shoulders leaning against dispatch. He had been apparently waiting for her, and she watched as a single, soft breeze played with that wavy hair. The same playful light lit up his green-gold eyes and were reflected in his broad smile encased in dimples. Somehow he looked even more handsome then he had at the party as pushed away from the building and walked towards her.

"I knew you could figure out if you were interested," she cooed, "I have to play a little hard to get, after all, or you just might forget that I'm a lady."

"Oh, I don't think I'd ever be able to forget that," Michael said, "So, are you ready?"

"Ready? I'm usually ready for anything, darling, but you'll have to be more specific."

He laughed again as the setting sun reflected on his glasses and gave his face an almost heavenly glow. "Ready to eat. I know a nice little place in the human realm."

"But I'm not dressed to go out," she protested, "Just let me hurry home and get ready. A handsome man such as yourself only deserves a lady looking her best."

He wrapped his arm about her shoulders and leaned closely so that she could feel his breath upon her face. His breath smelled slightly of peppermint. "I think you look just fine," he said in a soft tone.

((x))

At first, she had been a bit underwhelmed by his choice in eating establishments. While she wasn't precisely dressed for one of the more upscale eateries, the inn he ported them too seemed dusty and old. Her idea of him as the perfect, charming gentleman wavered ever so slightly, but upon entering she noticed just how busy the dining area was and the delicious smells wafting about the room. A young, buxom woman with golden blonde hair took their orders once they had seated, and Grell could see the woman's cornflower blue eyes light up when she looked upon Michael. Annoyance rose up within her, but Michael barely seemed to notice as he quickly ordered for both of them – assuring her that their Sunday Roast was simply divine. He barely even seemed to notice the waitress eyeing him as if he had suddenly became part of the menu for all of his attention was directed towards Grell.

"I don't think anyone has ordered for me before," Grell said, taking a dainty sip of water, "but it's a nice change. I love a man that takes charge."

"So I've heard," he replied with a mysterious smile.

Grell's smile slipped ever so slightly as she leaned forward. "I really do feel like I'm at such a disadvantage," she admitted, "You seem to know so much about me, but all I know about you is your name and that you're part of Upper Management."

He opened his hands as if to say his life was an open book. "What would you like to know?"

"When were you reborn?" she asked. It was an unusual question as reapers rarely spoke as if they had any life before their current existence, but it didn't seem to even faze her companion.

"Almost two centuries ago," he answered, "so, while I'm young, I'm still your senior." Although he had attempted to sound serious, it appeared that he was joking.

She was so surprised at this information that she didn't even remark on his senior comment. "How did you get to Upper Management so quickly?" she questioned, "I usually thought it took much longer."

"It usually does," he admitted, "but I was determined to make it. If I was going to be stuck working for all of this time, I at least wanted to be a success. What about you? I've seen you're grades. You could have moved on if you wanted to."

Before she could answer, their food arrived and Grell found herself very glad that she had let Michael order. She moaned at the tempting smells tickling her nose and couldn't help but smile when she caught a glimpse of Michael's face as he surveyed her performance. "Grade, dear," she corrected as she gathered her fork and knife. "I only really did well in Practical, and that is my area of expertise. No one can collect better records, but I rather despise all the tedious paperwork. Seems foolish if you ask me. I think I'd go crazy if I didn't get to go out into the field at least once in a while." She cut off a piece of the roast beef and took her first bite. The aroma hadn't prepared for the succulent taste that soon accosted her taste buds.

"I think you're being too modest," he replied, "No one had ever scored triple A's before in Practical, and I've seen some of the rather difficult assignments that have been sent your way. Could it be that you afraid to succeed?" He also began to eat, but his eyes didn't stray from her face as he waited for an answer.

She bristled slightly at the question. "Why would I be afraid of success?" she demanded, "Perhaps I'm simply not as career driven as you, but it doesn't make me some sort of failure." Quickly, she took a bite of potato, but she could feel her anger rising.

"I didn't mean anything," he said quickly, "Forgive me. I was just trying to tease. I guess I'm just a little embarrassed because I am a little career driven, just like you said." He looked down at his plate and poked at his food. "I think I'm just trying to make up for my own…past mistakes."

Swallowing, she looked at him directly as her anger faded almost as quickly as it has risen. "What past mistakes?" she asked quietly.

"The mistakes that led me here," he admitted, "The way I…ended my life."

A pregnant silence followed. All of the reapers knew who and what they were, but it was so rarely spoken aloud. It was just something that no one openly discussed even if the questions was on everyone's mind. "Oh," she finally said, "I don't really think about that very often."

"Do you remember?"

"Some of it," Grell replied, "but I don't have a lot of memories. I know the memories we do have are supposed to be punishment so we can only focus on those aspects we overlooked. Those things that we were blind to, but I don't remember much. So, I guess…" Her voice trailed off.

"That there wasn't a lot of good to your life?" he guessed.

She nodded, but she had trouble meeting his gaze. This was the first time she had ever voiced her own fears on the issue of her previous existence. She had even admitted it to Ronald, who had been rather open with her about his human life and subsequent suicide.

Michael sighed. "I remember my life," he said, "but there really wasn't much to it. I was a spoilt only child of overindulgent parents. I never had to struggle for anything, and I expected everything to just be handed to me. Then, there was that one thing I couldn't just have because of my name and money." He laughed bitterly. "I didn't even mean to actually kill myself," he explained, "I just wanted to scare everyone like some foolish, little boy. Apparently, suicide was something I actually did excel at."

She reached over and took his hand, which she found had begun to tremble. "I'm sorry," she said, "but you couldn't have been all that bad. You're just looking at yourself too harshly." Squeezing his hand, she regarded him with her warmest smile. "Thank you for sharing that," she whispered, "I was honest when I said I don't remember much, but I'll tell you my story one day – at least what I remember of it. It's really rather pathetic, but I'd be willing to tell you someday."

"Thanks," he said, as he wiped away a single tear. "Now that we've fully depressed ourselves, let's eat. I'm sorry this isn't much of a date."

"Actually," she stated, "this is probably the best date I've had in a long time."

The rest of their meal progressed in relative silence, but so much had been shared that there wasn't the need for very many words.

((x))

It was late when they returned to her apartment that night and the faux full moon of their world lit their way. "I had a lovely time, dear," she said, as she walked up to her door and turned to face him.

"I was scared I might have frightened you away with the way I was talking," Michael admitted, "but I enjoyed myself as well. I'd like to see you again."

"I'd like that," she responded softly, "Should I pop up to Upper Management one day and stop by your office when I'm ready?"

She had meant the question as a joke, but Michael actually looked a bit frightened by the response. "You shouldn't do that," he said.

"Why not?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it wouldn't be good if my superiors knew I was dating you," he explained.

The same familiar anger rose up within her, and she turned away suddenly as she reached into her pocket to retrieve her key. "Couldn't let them know you're dating a freak," she growled, "It probably hurt your precious career." Her hand was shaking so badly that she couldn't seem to fit her key into the hole.

"It's not that," he insisted, grabbing her arm and holding on even though she tried to jerk away. "We're just not supposed to date anyone below Upper Management. There are concerns that we could take advantage because of our positions. It's not that we don't have relationships with subordinates, but we have to be discreet."

She paused for a moment before glancing back over her shoulder. "You're not embarrassed of me?" she asked.

He took a step forward and turned her around so that she was in his arms. "Never," he whispered as he leaned forward to capture her lips.

It had been a long time, far too long, since anyone had last kissed her that she was almost afraid that she had forgotten how, but it was natural with Michael. He wasn't pushy, and the kiss remained chaste despite the passion bubbling beneath the surface. After a moment, he stepped back, but their eyes remained locked as Grell tried to desperately analyze the situation.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

She managed a slight smile. "Not this time, darling," she said.

He seemed surprised. "But why? I thought things were going great."

"Everything was great," she clarified, "but I do have to leave you with a little something to look forward to. Don't I? Besides, I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression."

"I already have a very favorable impression of you," he said, "I just want to get to know you better."

"And you'll have plenty to time to do just that," she responded, unlocking her door and stepping inside, "Good night, my handsome gentleman."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

She laughed lightly. "I'm very rarely serious about anything, dearie, but I'm deadly serious when it comes to matters of the heart. Besides, a lady must be very careful about whom she invites to her bed, despite what any of the rumors might say to the contrary."

"I never thought of you of anything less than a lady," he said. He stepped closer and ran his hand gently down her check. "Until later, my crimson beauty." With those words, he turned and slowly walked down the street.

She watched him walk away, and a part of her was tempted to call him back. In truth, she was a little hesitant when it came to intimacy since it meant revealing all of herself to another individual – to be judged and evaluated. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the physical aspects of a relationship for her passion was not something that she faked, but that first step was always the most precarious. Besides, if she gave into desires to quickly, it would only bolster her reputation as a tease and a strumpet.

Feeling warmer in her heart that she could ever remember, she stepped inside her apartment and closed the door. Perhaps her heart had finally found that thing she had so long been seeking. Perhaps, she had found love.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter was incredibly hard to write, so please excuse the delay. Also, please note there is a discussion of suicide. I debated quite a bit about that section. It was needed for the story, but I also wanted to handle the subject in a tasteful manner. As such, I did describe the setup but gave no details of the actual act.

 **Chapter 2:**

It was a single red rose lying on her desk that greeted her a few days later, and she couldn't deny that she was more than a little surprised. In her many years as a reaper, she had only been greeted by a present on her desk once, and that had been a small thank-you gift from Ronald after he had been approved to work full time. In truth, she wasn't used to gifts, nor had she dreamed she really hear from Michael again. The brutal honesty of their conversation had been so refreshing, and it was almost alien to her to think that someone might actually care. She had already decided to simply cherish the memory of their date; to fold it up in her heart and hold to it when she felt particularly alone or sad.

But now, there was a rose.

Trying not to giggle excitedly, she picked up the rose and found it was simply perfection. Not a single one of the scarlet petals had browned or appeared torn, and the fragrance was one of nature's finest. As she marveled at the epitome of all roses, she picked up the card and read the few words that had been scribbled by a confident hand.

 _"_ _I'll meet you at your place at nine tonight. Dress in your most elegant and prepare for an evening to remember."_

 _-M_

"Someone looks like they're in a good mood this morning," Ronald said as he walked up behind her.

"Someone has a very good reason to be," she replied, as she handed the card towards Ronald as she toyed with the rose stem.

He read quickly and then let out a low whistle. "Wow!" he said, "No wonder you're so happy. So, who's this M? Anyone I know?"

"I don't think so," she replied slyly before started for the break room. She needed to get her rose in some water so that it wouldn't wilt during the day.

"It wouldn't be that one guy from Upper Management, would it?" asked Ronald.

Grell turned to him in surprise. "How did you guess?" she asked.

Ronald shrugged as an easy smile appeared on his youthful face. "I saw that guy talking to you at the party," he said, "and it wasn't hard to tell he was interested. So, tell me about him."

She motioned for Ronald to keep his voice down as they stepped into the break room, which was thankfully empty at the moment. "His name is Michael," she explained as she leaned against the wall and held the rose close to her heart, "and he's the sweetest man I've ever met. Oh, Ronnie, he understands me! We had a really deep conversation, and he actually wants to see me again." She looked down at the rose and ghosted her fingers over those pristine petals. "I was about to think I'd never find someone," she admitted.

Ronald smiled gently. "I knew you would," he said, "but why all the secrecy? I haven't seen this guy around here since the party, and this is the first time I've even heard his name."

She walked over and retrieved a cup which she filled with water. Carefully, she place the rose inside before turning towards back towards the younger reaper. "Upper Management isn't really supposed to be in a relationship with any of the lower employees," she explained, "So we're trying to keep it quiet. Besides, we had only really gone out on that one date, but it looks like I need to be ready for something extra special tonight."

There was a strange expression on Ronald's face that she couldn't quite understand, but then he managed another smile as he ran a hand through his bi-colored hair. "Be careful," he said.

She sniffed playfully. "When am I not careful?" she asked.

((x))

The knock came at her door a few minutes early, and Grell's trembling hands almost dropped the perfume she had been holding. "Just a minute," she called, trying to put every ounce of her false confidence into her voice to hide its tremor. Carefully, she dabbed just a bit of perfume behind her ears before hurrying to her front door. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to be greeted by Michael's smiling face, but then his jaw seemed to drop as he looked at her.

She had always taken the time to make her appearance as pleasing as possible, but she had put in a lot of extra effort on this evening, and it appeared that Michael had taken notice. Her dress was beautiful and elegant, although it wasn't overly fancy. It was red, which was expected, but a black lace skimmed the top just beneath her collarbone and along the top of her bare shoulders. The waist was cinched, and the same lace had been gathered to create the illusion of ebony roses growing down along the sides of the skirt until fading into the lacy trim, which matched her black, lace gloves. Her hair had taken the most time. She had loosely curled it and piled most of it high upon her head, but allowed several ringlets to cascade down her back. A red, silk rose had been interwove with the curls on the right side near the temple, and her carefully applied makeup was designed to complement the overall look. She knew that she had put forth a lot of effort, and she did look her best, but she was scared that it still wasn't enough.

"Do I look okay?" she asked.

"No."

"No?" she repeated, taking a step back as tears threatened to form in her eyes anger starting to coil in her stomach like an enraged viper.

He smiled gently and placed his hand on her cheek. "You don't look okay," he clarified, "You look stunning. Breathtaking. I wish you would have warned me, because I can be a very jealous man, my dear red rose, and I know that no man will be able to keep his eyes off of you tonight."

She could barely breathe as she listened to his words, and she stared into his eyes to make sure he was sincere. Tears still threatened to fall, but now these were tears of overwhelming happiness. He was looking at her, truly looking at her, but there was only loving acceptance. "So," she began, trying to recover from all of the emotions roaring inside her heart, "Where are we going?"

"Oh, that's a surprise," he replied lightly, "In fact, I think there's a lot of surprises in store for you." He held out his arm for her. "Shall we go?"

She took the offered arm without fear or hesitation. "Absolutely."

((x))

Grell was more than a little surprised when Michael's portal led them straight to Paris. As a field agent, Grell could only create portals to the parts of the human realm within her assigned area. If she wanted to travel outside of that area, she would have to use human transportation or the power of her own feet. In fact, she couldn't clearly remember the last time she had been in Paris, and she doubted she had ever been with anyone as wonderful as Michael.

The night was full of surprises, but all were pleasant and memorable. First, they went to a beautiful restaurant, where Michael ordered confidently for both of them just as he had before. During their meal, their conversation was both light and lively as they avoided the darker subjects they had discussed during the first date. Like Grell, he had a natural talent for telling stories with flare, and she enjoyed every moment of listening to him, but he also took the time to listen to her. Never did she feel the need to tone down or minimalize her vivacious personality. Michael could handle it.

After eating, they went dancing. Grell wasn't paying attention to the song or the music for her eyes were locked on Michael, but she couldn't help but notice that everyone was looking at them. She knew they were beautiful together, and pride swelled up inside her. There had always been some seed of doubt about what people saw when they looked her way, but now she could feel that these people just though that Michael and her were too beautiful people that were falling in love. It was the kind of story that would be whispered by these people the next morning as everyone looked around for the elegant couple who had danced the night away. It was beyond perfect.

It was late when they finally decided to leave. Grell was tired, but she was reluctant to go back to her house. This night had been so magical, but she had already made the decision that she was going to make this moment last just a bit longer.

((x))

"I had a wonderful time tonight," Michael said, as he walked her to her door, "I don't think I could have even imagined a more spectacular evening."

Grell nervously chewed her lip, although she tried to speak with confidence. "It doesn't have to end just yet," she offered, "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

He smiled and nodded. "That sounds nice," he said.

Opening her door, they both walked inside, and Grell couldn't help but wonder if he could hear her heart as it was beating so loudly in her chest. Once inside, she shut the door and motioned to the couch for him to sit as she made her way into the kitchen. "I don't know when I've last danced so much," she stated as she prepared the coffee, "My feet will probably be aching tomorrow, but it was worth it, darling."

He laughed. "You'll just remember me with each step you take," he said.

She couldn't help but giggle at that response. "Oh, you!" she exclaimed before walking back into the living room and handing him a mug. She was still nervous as she sat down at the other end of the couch and looked at him. "Still, I don't want to be limping tomorrow when I go into the office."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," he replied mysteriously, "You might find things are a bit different tomorrow."

"What do you mean, dear?"

He smiled cryptically. "Nothing, or maybe it's just a surprise. You'll have to wait and see."

She slapped his arm playfully. "You and your surprises," she said, "I don't suppose there's anything I can do but to wait."

"Not a thing," he agreed.

She shook her head, but a more somber expression took possession of her features. "Do you remember me saying that I don't remember much about my life?" she asked suddenly. A part of her worried that this change in subject might be upsetting, but if she wanted to tell him the truth, she had to do so while she still had the courage.

He nodded. "Yes. You thought it might mean you're life wasn't all that memorable."

"Well," she began hesitantly, "I'd like to tell you what I do remember. I've never really told this to anyone before, and it's not particularly pleasant. Of course, when is suicide ever a happy matter?" She sighed loudly and looked over at the black, cold fireplace. Although she had been warm only minutes earlier, a chill ran through her body, and she briefly thought of building a fire. Of course, she knew she was just stalling.

"I don't remember my family or any friends," she finally said, "I do know I had a decent apartment even though I didn't work regularly, so either someone supported me or I had other funds, but I'm not sure where this money originated. What I remember was being very alone and…invisible somehow. I would walk through the streets, and it was like I was nothing but a shadow. No one ever saw me. No one even looked at me, and I could never speak up. I was terribly shy and scared all the time."

"It's hard to imagine you as shy," Michael offered.

"But I was," she stated, glancing back at him, "I was the same person on the inside as I am now, but it's like I didn't have a voice. I wanted to stand up and make myself seen, but I never had the courage. I just wandered through each day like a forgotten shadow." Pausing, she turned back to stare at the blackness of the empty fireplace as the scarce memories flickered across her mind.

"I did love the stage," she continued, "and I thought that acting might be the answer. If I was playing someone else, I wouldn't have to be afraid. I could finally give a voice to that scared girl trapped in the mousey, plain exterior. I was able to join a theatre group, but even they were hesitant to allow me on stage. I just couldn't get them to see the real me enough to even audition. One of the leaders did take pity on me, however, and let me work with the props and costumes. I was even given a key, so I would often go there late at night to get everything in order."

No longer able to take the chill that seemed to permeate her apartment like a foul odor, she got up and started a fire. Michael sat quietly and watched as the flames began to flicker and dance, but Grell didn't return to her seat. Even sitting directly in front of the fire, her story was leaving her cold and vulnerable, but she saw little choice but to continue even if she did plan to edit some of the more traumatic parts. "I started dressing up when no one was around," she said, "and it was fun. I didn't have to be shy, little Grell Sutcliff. I could be these beautiful, confident women that captured men's hearts like trophies. After some time, I began to sneak out at night in these costumes to play the part. It was nice to get attention, but, even then, I knew it was fleeting. It wasn't long before some discovered my…secrets, and they weren't happy. Even the theatre group wanted nothing to do with me when it was all discovered and demanded I hand in my keys."

Another pause followed as the memories assaulted her. She had barely even admitted the truth to herself in the past, but hearing the cold, simple words fall from her lips made it all real once more. Her own voice grew faint in her ears as she quietly finished her story.

((x))

The building was silent as a tomb, which was fitting, as Grell slipped silently inside. She carried no candle or lamp as the layout was so familiar to her, and she made her way around the costumes with only the light of full moon streaming through a few high windows. This was her true home, but they were trying to force her to leave. It wasn't fair. They called her a freak and hurt her in every way possible, but she was treated as if she was the one who had done wrong. She had made no mistake. She wasn't a mistake.

Finally, she lit a candle and slipped into the back where she knew that the dress would be located. Like her, this dress was often overlooked as it wasn't perfect, but she still found it beautiful. It was red velvet with a beautiful gold trim around the collar, sleeves, and base of the full skirt. The waist was high, but it never hung quite right on the actress for whom it had been intended. It fit beautifully on her however, and she quickly shed her dreary clothes and slipped it over her head.

With the dress in place, she retrieved a vibrant, red wig before making her way to the mirrors. Her own hair was a dreadful shade of brown and hung too limply and lifeless. It was easy to twist and pin to her head before putting on the wig. Red did suit her so much better and even her dull green eyes seemed to shimmer. Smiling at the blossoming reflection, she carefully applied makeup until the woman she always knew was hidden on the inside came into view.

"There you are, darling," she said as she blew her reflection a kiss. Seeing her actions, she couldn't help but giggle, and something almost resembling an actual smile graced her face despite the pain that shown in her eyes.

Now that she was prepared, she gathered some old, fake roses that were stored in a dusty box. The flowers had faded over the years, and she had no idea when they had last been used, but it served her current purpose well. Carefully, she carried them to center stage where she arranged them to create a false bed for her to lie upon. While far from comfortable, it would no doubt create a beautiful image.

Her note, her final note to the world, had already been written and she carefully arranged it close to the faux roses. She had struggled for hours for those simple words, but she was satisfied with the results.

 _"_ _Behold the crimson rose whose true beauty remained unseen by the world until she cut and cast to the ground. Let the tragedy never be forgotten the way that she was in this, the cruelest of lies, called life."_

Everything was in place except for, the star of this one person show. Her body was trembling as she lowered herself to lie upon the roses and produce the knife which she had hidden in a small purse.

((x))

"And that's what I remember," Grell concluded, staring down at her wrists as if she could see the marks and the blood that had once stained her pale skin.

Michael didn't speak as he stood over and walked to her. Kneeling, he wrapped on strong arm about her shoulders. "I'm so sorry," he whispered and pulled her closer.

"The worst part was that I realized it was all a mistake the moment it was too late," Grell added. The tears she had been struggling to hold back suddenly spilled from her eyes and glistened in the firelight. "I was still going to be forgotten except for a quick laugh. No one would remember me beyond some crazy person who killed herself on stage. My final thoughts were a prayer begging for a second chance."

"And you got it," he said.

She nodded as she quickly wiped away her tears. "I know this existence is supposed to be a punishment, but I just can't see it like that. This is my second chance, and I'm not going to waste it. I refuse to be shy and scared. Maybe this life isn't perfect, and I'm still not totally accepted, but I'm still going to make the most of it. Besides, I'm not so weak anymore."

"No. You're not," Michael agreed. His eyes took on a faraway look as he leaned forward and captured her lips.

She knew exactly where this was going, but she made no move to pull away. Let others talk and think what they wanted to think. They were going to anyway, but she needed this. She needed to feel wanted. For the first time she had fully revealed her darkest secrets to someone else, and they hadn't turned away. This night was perfect, and she would deal with the consequences of past mistakes when the time came. She would worry about it later.

((x))

The alarm clock tore through the silence of the room, and Grell's eyelids flew open as she jumped up to turn it off as quickly as possible. After the way her thoughts had been racing, she would have thought that sleep was impossible, but she must have drifted off sometime during the night. Wrapped up in the warm comforting thoughts of the early date with Michael must have calmed her nerves, but now she was back in the present reality.

Quietly, she moved into the bathroom and flipped the switch. As the light flooded the room, she saw that she was slightly pale and there were dark circles beneath her eyes, but there were no bruises to be seen. After all, reaper bodies usually healed too quickly for something as minor as a bruise to show. If only the bruises on her heart could heal so easily, but those were always invisible. A few tears gathered in her eyes as she started to arrange her makeup, but she refused to allow herself to cry. She just didn't have the strength anymore.

Getting ready had become a hire wire act. If she took too much time with her makeup, Michael would think that she was trying to gain unnecessary attention from another man. If she didn't put forth enough effort, then others would notice her sallow complexion and ask questions. There was no safety net, and the correct balance was such a thin, taunt rope.

Her clothing choices were almost as tricky. Her beloved coat had long since been retired to a box when Michael declared it to be gaudy and unnecessary. Her usual pants were too form fitting, as well as her shirts and vests. Now her clothing hung on her and had none of her usual style, but still he seemed to find something wrong with her attire. It seemed that she could do nothing right these days no matter how much she tried. Pulling back her hair in an unflattering style, she stepped out the bathroom and started to quietly make her way towards the front door.

"Are you leaving already?" Michael's voice suddenly demanded.

"Yes," Grell said, glancing down at the floor as she knew that his eyes were crawling over every article of clothing searching for some flaw.

"I'll be at the office around noon," he finally said, "I want you to stay at the desk until then."

"Yes, dear," Grell replied.

She waited for a confrontation, but he seemed too sleepy for such matters at the moment. Sleepily he told her he'd see her later as he rolled over in bed and quickly began to snore. She envied his easy, casual sleep.

With a heavy step and even heavier heart, she walked out of her apartment and down the street towards dispatch as her invisible troubles weighed solidly on her mind. She couldn't help but think how she had been to go to work that morning that Michael had told her a surprise was waiting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 _This story does jump from past to present at times, although I try to indicate when these time jumps occur. Please note that this section is taking place in the past during the early stages of the relationship between Grell and Michael._

"Grell," Michael's voice whispered in her ear, "Wake up, beautiful. I want to say goodbye before I leave."

"Leave?" Grell mumbled as she forced her lazy eyelids to open slightly, "But why?" Even without her glasses, Michael was standing close enough to see that he was already dressed.

"I have to go home before I head to the office," he explained, "Plus, I still have to get your surprise ready."

She giggled. "I think you just like surprises."

"I like to give special treatment to very special ladies," he replied as he gently stroked her cheek, "I've reset your alarm. Make sure you're not late today."

"Oh, when am I ever late?" she asked in response.

He laughed softly and kissed her on the forehead before leaving. Lying in bed, she listened as he made her way through her apartment and out the front door, but she found she no longer felt as if she could go back to sleep. The excitement of this new relationship, of this new love, gave her energy beyond anything she had ever experienced. She wanted to run, jump, and dance as she announced the fact she, Grell Sutcliff, had actually found someone that loved her.

Not feeling like simply lying around, she got up and started to get ready, but she was hardly prepared for the sight that greeted her when she looked into the mirror. Her eyes were sparkling like crushed diamonds a soft blush highlighted her cheeks more beautifully than any makeup could have managed. She had never looked prettier than she had in that moment, and she had Michael to thank for her appearance. Carefully, she combed her hair and dressed and took ever more time than usual. After all, today was special and she wanted to look her best.

Despite an early start, she made it to the office barely on time, but she cheerfully called out a hello to everyone she saw. Even though she didn't have many of what one would call friends, her smile seemed contagious that morning as many returned the expression as she practically skipped through the office.

She stopped in her tracks, however, the moment her eyes fell upon her desk. It was completely bare as it had been stripped of all of her personal belongings. If not for the stain of red nail polish, she might have thought she had simply gotten turned around somehow and was looking down at the wrong workstation.

"Sutcliff," William called out from the doorway to his office.

Normally she would have paused in this moment to engage William in conversation or harmless, expected flirting, but the current state of her desk had left her confused and a little concerned. "Will, dear," she began, as she walked over to him, "where's all of my stuff? You know I don't like people going through all of my belongings?"

"You've been transferred, Sutcliff," William answered, "effective immediately. Your belongings have already been relocated to your new office."

"Transferred? But, why?" As she spoke, Michael stepped out from behind William and looked directly at her, but there was no smile this time. It suddenly began to dawn on her that this was Michael's surprise.

"Enough. It's out of my hands," William said, and Grell could have sworn he almost sounded as if he regretted this situation. "Mr. Summer will show you to your new office." With those words, William walked away as if he had more important things to do at the moment.

Michael didn't smile as he stared down at her. "Follow me, Sutcliff," he said coldly. Turning, he made his way down the hall and towards the elevator, and she followed without saying a word. She had plenty of words going through her mind, however, although most would have not been very ladylike to say aloud. Silently, they stepped into the elevator and Michael punched the number for Upper Management's floor. As the doors shut, however, Grell immediately turned towards him.

"What's going on, Michael?" she asked, "You transferred me? To Upper Management? You know how I feel about paperwork." There was an annoyed whine to her voice, but she didn't care. He had to know to know how she felt. "I liked Dispatch, and I was good at collections. I'll miss Ronnie and Will…"

Michael's hand suddenly shot forward as he slammed the button to stop the elevator. Even though he had his face turned away so that she couldn't see his expression, she could feel the anger rolling off of him in waves, and this confused her. After all, she was the one who had suddenly been uprooted at work, so she had every right to be upset.

"That's what this is all about," Michael growled, "About him."

"Him? Michael, what are you talking about?"

"Do I have to spell out? William T. Spears!" he spat out the name as if it left a foul taste in his mouth before spinning around to face her. His face had grown red and his eyes bulged slightly. "It's no secret how you've always chased after him," he continued, "It's even in your files. That's the reason you're mad, isn't it? Because I took away from your dear William?"

"No!" she yelled, "I just wasn't expecting to be transferred! I know you like your surprises, but this was too much!"

"Sure," he grumbled.

"It's the truth," she insisted, "It's sweet that you're trying to help me with a better job position, but I liked where I was."

"Tell me," he began, "You say this has nothing to do with Spears, but aren't you still in love with him?"

She paused briefly as she considered the question as she wanted to be honest. "I care for Will," she said, "and I always will. He's the first one I fell in love with after all, and that's not something that I can just forget."

"That's what I thought," Michael stated.

"But I love you," she insisted.

He looked at her for several minutes. "Yet if Spears was to promise you his undying love, you'd leave me in a second."

"Darling, he's not going to do that," Grell assured, "He's had over a century. I…I hate saying it out loud, but Will never loved me. I don't think he could love me. He's not going to change, but even if he did…"

"If he did?" prompted Michael.

"I'd have to tell him he's too late," she said, "Someone else has my heart. I know what everyone says about me, dear, but you know the rumors aren't all true. I am faithful and I take affairs of the heart very seriously."

"I don't know," he stated, "You did get upset when I was just helping you with a promotion."

"I'm sorry," she apologized humbly.

"I don't even know why I'm trying so hard," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "Here I go out of my way to create a position that's perfect for you. You're to be in charge of collecting records that don't need to be reviewed because of particular circumstances. All you have to do is reap with practically no paperwork, and you'll operate all over the world. I put myself on the line for you with this, but you didn't even give me a chance to explain."

"I'm really sorry," she reiterated, "I didn't know. What you did is terribly sweet. It's probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I was just surprised. I do appreciate it, Michael. Honestly, I do. I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions." She knew she was rambling but felt helpless to stop.

He pushed the button to start the elevator once more. "I was afraid this might blow up in my face," he said under his breath.

"I'll do my best," she offered, "It won't blow up on you."

"Act professionally if you can," he instructed as they reached their floor, "You're only refer to me as Mr. Summer and never so much as hint we've met outside the office. I'm really sticking my neck out for you, so the least you can do is to be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Mr. Summer," she replied humbly as the door slid open in an attempt to show him that at least her acting skills were up to par for this challenge.

Quietly they walked down a new hall, and Grell got her first look at Upper Management's floor. She had been judged by them in the past, but that was always in the judicial building. She had never been here before, but she tried not to make it too obvious that she was examining her surroundings and they walked down the hall and to a closed door. The nameplate upon this door announced it as belonging to her, but somehow it felt so wrong and foreign to her. Michael opened the door and they both walked inside a simple, yet handsome office. It was slightly bigger than William's and a huge window along the far wall boasted a magnificent view, but she take no join in any of these things. The tight expression still affixed to Michael's face destroyed any happiness she might have felt.

He shut the door behind them. "Your things were packed up and put in the box there," he explained, pointing to a box on the desk, "As you can see if you have much more room, but please keep superfluous decorations to a minimum. I'll leave so you can get settled. You have no assignments until this afternoon to give you some time to adjust."

"Thank you," she said, quietly, "for everything."

"Your lunch will be at noon. The cafeteria is down the hall and to the right, and you'll find we have an impressive assortment of food. It's doubtful you'll have to bring in anything to eat. I don't usually have my lunch at that time, but if I happen to be there you are not to approach me, nor should you attempt to sit with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course," she said, "Michael, I really am sorry. I know I don't deserve all this."

With the same odd expression still firmly in place, he didn't respond directly to her as he turned and opened the door. "I just hope this wasn't a mistake," he said in a soft tone just before shutting the door behind him.

Grell stood in silence in the center of the room as she stared at the closed door and thought about how things had gone so wrong so quickly. She hadn't meant to upset Michael, but the surprise of the transfer had rattled her. Seeing how much he was risking by giving her a special position, she only wished that he would accept her apology. Why was that she always seemed to be her own worst enemy when it came to relationships?

Not allowing herself to cry, she made her way over to the box to unpack. She had never realized before just how few things she actually kept on her desk, but now it seemed so minimal. As she looked at each item, however, she couldn't help but wonder if any would fall under the category of 'superfluous.' Perhaps this calendar was a bit too silly and the tiny crystal heart too foolish. Never before had she questioned her tastes so thoroughly, although she knew she was in direct contrast to most people. In the end, she stored most of her stuff in an unused drawer after placing a single picture on the corner of her desk. It was one of her and Ronald looking happy and content. She had tried so hard to get William in that picture as well, but he had refused. Maybe it was for the best considering how worried Michael was over her feelings towards William, although there was no reason to worry. William had made that perfectly clear with the cold and dismissive way he had spoken to her earlier.

With her single task out of the way, she glanced up at the clock and saw that she still had quite a long time to wait until lunch. She supposed she could slip back down to dispatch just to say hello to Ronald and tell him what had happened, but she didn't think that would be a good idea. After all, Michael might come back in the meantime, and he might assume that she had snuck down to see William. For now, it would be best to sit and wait even though patience wasn't her strongest virtue.

She only hoped that Michael was coming back.

((x))

All conversations seemed to halt when Grell stepped into the cafeteria. It was impressive as they only had a small break room down on Dispatch, but here the food was actually prepared to their specifications. As her stomach was still nervous and upset, she had chosen only a small salad and water, but now she was beginning to wonder if she could even manage to digest that. She could feel the weight of their collective gaze upon her shoulders as she slowly walked through the room until she found a small, empty table at the back. For the first time, she found herself wishing she wasn't so noticeable. Typically, she feared being invisible and unseen, which would have meant she would have made her grandest entrance in an unfamiliar situation like this one, but today she was simply too mentally exhausted to put on an act for anyone. Her shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, she took a seat at the empty table and the conversations slowly picked up once again. She couldn't help but wonder how many were talking about her.

Mechanically she ate without tasting the food as she scanned the room, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was all a mistake. Someone like Ronald would have no problem here. He would have already made his way over to the one group of ladies setting at a round table to introduce himself. Even though she would have normally entered the room with more flair and exuberance, she still never would have quite fit in. She never truly did.

To her surprise, Michael entered the room, and she couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He had said that he didn't typically have lunch at that time but perhaps he had come to speak to her. Maybe, he had ever accepted her apology. As she watched, however, she saw him glance her way and realized that she wasn't supposed to pay him any special attention. Quickly, she dropped her eyes and pretended to be completely engrossed in the contents of her salad. Hopefully, it hadn't been too obvious she had been staring. After several minutes, she hesitantly raised her eyes only to see that Michael had left.

Sighing softly to herself, she gave up on her efforts of eating and quietly crossed the room to discard her barely touched meal. Still feeling that she was being watched, she went back to her empty office and shut the door. There were still no assignments waiting on her.

With nothing to do except worry, she sat down at her desk and laid her head on the smooth, wooden surface feeling utterly alone and useless.

((x))

Never before had a clock moved so slowly, and Grell could feel her restlessness rising with each passing second. She didn't like sitting around doing nothing, but she had no idea of what she could do right now. She had walked around her office multiple times and had taken in the view from her window, but she felt bored and uncomfortable. While she hated being told precisely what to do and how to act, she did like at least some idea or direction. Right now, it appeared that it would be time to leave for home soon and she had done absolutely nothing all day.

A knock upon her door interrupted her thoughts, and she scurried to her desk so that she could at least appear to be doing something. "Come in," she said.

The door opened and Michael stepped inside. As he shut the door behind him, a sheepish smile spread across his handsome face. "I got caught up in meetings," he explained, raking back his hair slightly. Those wavy strands just didn't want to stay in place.

Her stress evaporated immediately when she saw that he wasn't upset. "That's okay, dear," she said, "I was just so worried you were still mad at me."

"Mad? Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because of…this morning," she explained, hesitantly. She was partially afraid that bringing it up again would only upset Michael once more,

"That?" Michael asked, waving his hand as if shooing away an insect, "Don't worry about that. You just didn't understand what was going on. Besides…" His voice trailed off as he walked over to her and knelt before her as if proposing. "I got a little crazy when I thought there was some chance I might lose you to Spears or anyone else. Don't you understand, my beautiful scarlet rose? I love you so much, and I'm afraid I can get a little jealous."

She smiled. "You're not going to lose me," she replied, "I've already told you, my handsome prince, I'm faithful and deadly serious when it comes to affairs of the heart. There's no reason to be jealous."

"I know that," he whispered, kissing her softly, "I was just worried that someone might try and steal my precious ruby from me. Now, we need to go up to the roof."

"The roof? Why?"

"You've never created long range portals before," he explained, "It can be a bit tricky because it's harder to judge your destination when you're not as familiar with an area, but there are methods that help. Let me show you how because tomorrow you'll be starting your first assignments."

"Lead the way!" she exclaimed cheerfully. As they stepped into the hallway, however, she made sure to fall behind him so she was the picture of the respectful subordinate and not a woman in love.

((x))

She arrived home late that night, and her body was very tired. Creating the long range portals turned out to be more difficult and draining than she would have imagined, but Michael said she had caught on rather quickly. Since there was no way she could be familiar with all the places she would have to go, there were general areas, called safe spots, that she was to aim for before looking for a particular target. The only danger, Michael explained, was that these individuals were more likely to be targeted by demons since they were already considered damned, but Grell had no real issue with demons. Stretching her tired muscles, she slowly undressed as she put on a pair of red and black silk pajamas.

Just as she was making her way to the kitchen for a snack, someone knocked at the door. She was a little annoyed since she was hungry after not eating lunch, but she carefully called out that she would be right there as she hurried to the door. To her surprise, Ronald was standing on her doorstep.

"Ronnie!" she gasped before jumping forward to hug the younger reaper, "Oh, I can't tell you how much I missed you today, darling! Come in!"

Ronald hugged her back and followed her inside. "I missed you too," he said, "What happened? I asked Mr. Spears where you were and he said you had been transferred. He seemed pretty miffed about it too."

"I doubt that," Grell replied sadly, "He couldn't seem to get rid of me fast enough. He didn't even say goodbye."

"That's because we were really short-handed today," explained Ronald, his duel colored eyes growing wide, "There was a huge factory explosion and everyone had to go into the field – even William. Plus, I heard him talking about how you could have told him beforehand."

"But I didn't even know until this morning," Grell countered, "I had no idea until I get to the office and find my desk has been cleaned off." She giggled lightly. "Michael does like his surprises."

"So it was your bigwig boyfriend," Ronald guessed, "How is it going between you two?"

"Wonderfully!" she exclaimed, "He's just so sweet, and he even created this position for me that has almost no paperwork. To be honest, I think he did it just to keep me away from Will. He's a bit jealous."

Ronald's smile slipped slightly. "Jealousy isn't usually a good thing," he said.

"It's just because he really cares for me," Grell explained, "Oh, Ronnie, no one has ever shown me this much love!"

"I just worry about my senior," offered Ronald.

"You keep telling me you're worried," Grell said, frowning just a bit, "Don't you trust me, Ronnie, or have you heard something on Michael?"

"I haven't heard anything about Michael," Ronald answered, "It's just…Look, I don't know how to say this. I don't want to get you mad or anything."

"Just say it!"

Ronald sighed. "You told me that Michael wanted to keep him dating you a secret because Upper Management isn't really supposed to date anyone working in a lower department. Well, that's the first time I've ever heard that. I knew a bird dating someone from Upper Management, and they didn't keep it a secret. That just concerned me a little." He ran his hand through his bi-colored hair as he spoke, and it was obvious he was nervous.

The fear that Michael saw her as an embarrassment or something he had to keep a secret welled up inside her. "What are you saying, Ronnie?" she began in a quiet tone, "It's not a rule but that Michael is ashamed to say he's dating me?" Her voice continually rose as she spoke. "Have you ever thought that maybe it's an unspoken rule and Michael's just worried about his career? He's worked hard to get to where he is, and he doesn't want to risk it. Even so, he is dating me, and he's good to me. He knows about my unfair and slanderous reputation, but he still loves me! Shouldn't I be grateful? He even went out of his way to make a special position just for me! He's already done so much!" By the time she finished, she was shaking slightly and tears were welling up in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Ronald said, "I'm…I'm just worried. I care for you too. You've been there for me so many times, and I just don't want to see you hurt." He shook his head. "Sorry. I guess I should be going."

"That's probably best," Grell replied as she tried to hold back her tears.

With a hesitant smile, Ronald nodded towards her before letting himself out. Once alone, all of the tears that she had been holding in all day suddenly broke through, and she slid down the wall to sit on the cold floor to cry. Why did it seem that she was never allowed to be happy?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Grell walked to work without much enthusiasm in the early morning sunshine. So much had changed so quickly, and the foolish argument with Ronald was still weighing heavily on her mind. She hadn't been able to sleep well, and the simple truth was that she was still unsure of where her relationship stood with Michael. He had shown her more affection than anyone ever had. He was the only one who seemed to actually love her, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging fear that it was all too good to be true. Perhaps, deep down, Michael was ashamed of her and would always try to keep her a secret as if she was nothing more than a mistress. Trying to maintain a happy expression to hide these fears took all her energy and focus as she hurried to the elevator.

"Senior Sutcliff!" a familiar voice rang out, "Wait! Hold the elevator!"

Looking up, she saw Ronald hurrying towards her, so she pushed the hold door button. The look of apprehension of his face mirrored her own, but he waited for the doors to shut before speaking. "I'm really sorry," he said, in lieu of a greeting, "I didn't mean to upset you last night. I was just worried."

She could only look at him for a moment in surprise at his heartfelt apology before launching herself towards him and wrapping her arms around the younger reaper. "Oh, Ronnie," she said into his jacket, "I was going to apologize to you. It was my fault really. I was just paranoid, so I took it out on you."

He laughed gently as he returned the hug. "I guess that makes us both sorry," he said softly, "I've really missed you. Dispatch just isn't the same."

"Really?" she asked, "Let me guess. It's a lot quieter."

"And a lot more boring," he added, "but seriously, I've missed you. We should hang out after work on evening. Go to a pub or something."

"Are you sure you can fit that in with all your dates?" she retorted with a laugh.

"That might be a challenge," he replied with a grin, as he turned back towards the closed elevator, "between my busy schedule and your relationship with Michael, it might not be easy, but I'm sure we can manage."

He had meant it as a joke, but Grell was thankful he had turned away so that he didn't seen the pain that she knew was evident on her face. She couldn't help but fear there was no reason to worry about future dates with Michael. If he was embarrassed of her, their relationship was already over. She was now stuck in a new job, no friends, and her hopes of love fading like an evening mist in the harsh rays of the sun.

The doors opened and, to her surprise, William was standing there as if he had been waiting specifically for them.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Spears," Ronald greeted.

"Knox," William said, with a barely perceptible nod before turning to look at her. "I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Sutcliff."

"Sure, I suppose," she managed. Ronald stepped off the elevator as William joined her inside the now claustrophobic cubicle. She had no idea what William might have to say, and she was more than a little prepared for him to launch into some sort of lecture the moment they were alone.

The doors shut and they rode for a few minutes in silence. "Are you adapting well to your new position?" he finally asked, his eyes locked on the featureless doors.

"I haven't really gotten started yet," she admitted, "but I think everything should be fine."

William nodded as he adjusted his glasses. She couldn't help but smile because she knew that this was the telltale sign that he was nervous. While she had never been able to traverse the gulf between them despite how long she had knew him, she still felt she knew more about this man that nearly anyone else.

"I'm afraid I owe you an apology, Sutcliff," William announced, breaking through her thoughts.

"What?"

He turned his attention from the blank steel surface to look down directly into her face. "I'd like to apologize," he reiterated, "for the way I acted towards you the other day. I had thought that you had been planning to leave and had failed to give me proper notice. Knox assured me that you had no more forewarning than I had. I shouldn't have acted so dismissively."

"It's okay," she said, "I guess it did come as a shock."

"I suppose that it did," he agreed, "but you still deserve an apology."

"It's really okay."

"No, it isn't," he insisted, "It is true that we will never see eye to eye on many issues, but I had no right to treat you so coldly. Up until that moment, you were still my subordinate and you deserved respect as such. I am sorry for my behavior, and I hope this promotion does you well." He paused for a moment as if to collect his thoughts before extending his hand towards her in his stiff manner. "Good luck, Grell."

For a moment, she didn't know how to react. Here was a man she had chased for over a century, but now he had his hand actually held towards her to shake. It wasn't the passionate embrace she had dreamed about for all those years, but to hear him apologize and call her by her first name was still more than she had truly expected. "Thank you," she eventually managed as she shook his hand and the elevator doors opened. She held on for one second longer than necessary before stepping off the elevator and down the long hall that led to the office. Only once did she glance back at her former supervisor as the elevator doors slid smoothly shut.

She was leaving William behind.

When she had told Michael that William would always be her first love, she had been completely honest. Her emotions for William were too deep to simply fade into oblivion, but she no longer imagined throwing herself into his arms and professing her love. For better or worse, her heart had grown and moved on, and now it was only a matter if Michael truly returned her affection. Without saying anything to any of the other workers, she walked into her new, nearly barren office, shut the door, and sat down at her desk to wait for her first assignments.

She was barely seated when Michael came sweeping into the room and shut the door behind him with a flourish. A huge smile was plastered across his face as he practically ran towards her and pulled her from the chair into his arms. "My darling Grell!" he exclaimed, "How beautiful you look this morning!" Before she could respond, he captured her lips with his own, and she allowed herself to lose herself in the warmth of his kiss.

"I get use to greetings like that," she purred as soon as they broke the kiss, "but what's the occasion?"

"Who needs an occasion when they has a beautiful woman like you?" he asked in return, kissing her again before stepping back. "So, are you ready to get started?"

"I'm always ready, dear," she replied, "but I fear you're talking about work and not pleasure." She regarded him with a mock pout; still savoring the warmth of his embrace the tingle on her lips from their most recent kiss.

"Maybe I'm talking about a little bit of both," he said, pulling her closer, "After all, I'm coming with you. This is your first day, after all, and I can't let anything happen to our brand new employee." He stroked her cheek gently as his expression softened. "And I never will allow anything happen to you," he added in a tone barely above a whisper.

Her heart soared. She had woke up this morning feeling so terrible and alone, but now everything had managed to correct itself in such a short time. It was almost as if this was all a beautiful dream.

And she never wanted to wake up.

((x))

Creating the far ranging portals took a lot of energy, but Grell had quickly gotten the hang of it, and Michael continually praised her. The only issue was that these portals could only be opened in specific locations, so it was still up to her to locate the target in very unfamiliar areas. While she had previously prided herself on having a rather good sense of direction, she was seriously questioning her abilities after getting lost for the fourth consecutive time. Michael assured her it was only a matter of practice. Once she did find the right person, the job itself wasn't all that unusual. There were no records to examine as everything had already been determined. She did find, however, that these records were far more likely to struggle and attack then any she had ever seen before – although this was of little concern to her. A rookie might have struggled, but her reputation with her scythe was one of the few tales about her that was accurate.

"So what sort of people are these?" Grell asked, nudging the corpse of the man she had only finished reaping with her boot, "I thought everyone's records were to be judged." The man lying before her was a pudgy, plain fellow she had trouble as imagining as anything beyond average.

"I'm not sure," admitted Michael, "All I know is that there's something about these people that doesn't require us to look at their records. Apparently they've done something that will sent them straight to Hell, although I have no idea what. That's why their records look blank even if we try to look at them."

She nodded as she gave the man a final shove. "Still, it's hard to imagine what they could have done that was so awful." She giggled slightly. "I know I wasn't precisely a saint. Still, this is our third one today. Is that common?"

"These cases have piled up somewhat," he replied, "As horrible as it sounds, the more evil people sometimes lives a longer life because no one wants the danger of collecting their records. Not only is there more a struggle and more danger, you have the constant threat of demons."

"Like that one over there?" she asked in a mock innocent tone as she pointed beneath the eaves of a nearby building.

Michael whirled about to where she had indicated, and she saw the evident shock pass over his face. It was a low level demon that had no physical form outside of an indistinct black shadow. Those were only a threat if they managed to possess a stronger form, but it was apparent that this one had no intent on attempting to do so in the presence of two reapers. While they watched, it faded and disappeared from the area.

"I didn't even know it was there," he gasped, "You were able to sense that thing?"

"Of course, darling," she replied confidently, "I've dealt with my fair share of demons after all."

He turned back and wrapped his arm about her shoulders to pull her closer. "I knew you were perfect for this job," he said, "and perfect for me." He kissed her gently as he stroked her hair. "That was the last assignment for today," he announced, "Why don't we get something to eat. I saw a lovely little restaurant back in town."

"But aren't we still on the clock?" she asked, although she already liked this idea.

"You could say it was a meeting with your boss," he suggested, "or just think of it as one of the perks of being part of Upper Management now. Of course…" His voice trailed off as he begin to play with her red stripped tie with his fingers. "We could just skip dinner and move on to more invigorating activities."

She laughed aloud as she leaned tightly against him. "You know I always did love a naughty boy," she whispered.

((x))

It was amazing the way things seemed to fall into place as the days progressed. Although there were lulls in her work, it kept her busy and occupied with the aspects she loved the most, and she really enjoyed the chance to see more of the world than she had ever imagined. If not for her naturally high reaper metabolism, she would have worried about gaining weight as she was taking the time to sample different cultural delicacies. She had managed to see Ronald and a few of her old coworkers after hours, and everyone had been rather nice to her. She had expected there to be laughter and gossip, but it seemed as if there were a few that actually missed having her around. Her relationship with Michael was also growing as they became nearly inseparable. He was always finding some excuse to step into her office, and the time they spent together was perfect. Or at least, almost perfect. He still hadn't told anyone that they were dating. It no longer bothered her as much as it had, but there were moments she still feared he might want to keep her a secret forever. She wanted Michael to be as proud of her as she was of him, which was one reason she worked so diligently lately.

The only sticky point was her lunchtime. While she no longer walked into the cafeteria the picture of defeat, it still nagged her the way the others stayed and pointedly ignored her presence. She had tried to strike up a few conversations, but it quickly became a wasted effort. Whether it was her reputation or the unorthodox way she had been promoted, she knew that she was more of an outcast here then she had ever been in dispatch. Normally, she would have used this opportunity to draw even more attention to herself, but she wanted to be more respectful of Michael.

This had been going on for nearly a month, and she had basically accepted that she was just doomed to eat lunch alone, when someone finally decided to be polite. She was just taking the first few bites of some delicious spaghetti when a rather young looking man walked over to her table. He wasn't handsome by any means with his red-orange hair, freckles, and rather prominent ears, but he was greeting her with a wide, friendly smile. Plus, she always felt a bit of kinship with a fellow redhead, even if his hair wasn't as bright or as beautiful as her own.

"Can I sit here?" he asked with the slightest hint of a lisp.

"Of course, dear," she answered, moving her own tray over, "the more the merrier."

"Thank you," he said, "I don't know anyone here yet. It's my first day, but then I saw you were sitting alone." He blushed as he spoke, and she was amused to see that his large ears turned the reddest.

"Well, you're welcome to sit with me anytime, darling," she explained, "Meals are better when they are shared after all. Where did you transfer from, if I may ask? I don't believe I've seen you before…"

"Samuel," he answered quickly, "And I know you're Grell Sutcliff."

"You know me?"

"Everyone's heard of you," he said, but then his blush only deepened. She wasn't sure if the young reaper was naturally nervous or if he had some sort of crush on her, but it was terribly sweet either way. "As for where I transferred, well, I've been about everywhere now."

She smiled as she leaned forward, "What do you mean?" she asked, "I like a man who's well-traveled, but what do you mean by everywhere?"

"Well, my scores in practical were too low for me to be considered for a field agent," he explained nervously, "so they put me in Spectacles. But, I'm really nervous so I ended up breaking some of the glasses, so then they put me in Scythe Dispensary, but I only managed to cut myself. They've put me in so many places, but I have a talent for organizing and filing apparently. That's how I wound up here, I guess." He laughed in an embarrassed manner.

"There's worse ways to end up in a department," she offered, laughing along with him and feeling herself began to relax. It felt good to talk to someone else for a change and not be treated as if she had some horrible, contagious disease. "So, any juicy gossip from any of those other places you worked?"

Samuel wasn't that much for gossip, but he did have a few amusing stories. It was the most pleasant lunch she had enjoyed in the cafeteria since being transferred, even if she had been talking too much to finish her spaghetti.

((x))

Her office was peaceful and becoming more and more like her own personal space, but she was disappointed when she saw no assignments lying on her desk. Even though these cases had piled up, they seemed to arrive in groups. Some days she was busy while others she had very little to do. Michael had warned her of this since this list was being edited quite frequently, and she had brought some novels to pass the time, but she hated being inactive. Lazily, she stretched as she started to cross the room.

There was a soft knock and she smiled when she saw Michael enter the room. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you, my love," she cooed, once he had shut the door. Quickly, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms about his neck, but Michael didn't smile or return any of her sentiments. "Is something wrong, darling?"

"I've just been in a meeting," he replied, "about you. You're doing an impressive job so far."

"That sounds like good news," she said, as she traced her fingers over his downturned mouth, "Why the frown?"

"What isn't impressive is the spectacle you make of yourself," he continued, "The way you dress draws too much attention."

"But this is how I've always dressed," she countered, "and it does technically follow the dress code. It's never been an issue before."

"Well, there's an issue now," he said, raising his voice slightly. "You don't need to go prancing around here trying to make sure everyone notices you." He handed Grell a piece of paper with neatly typed wording that he had been holding along with a folder that no doubt held the next assignment. "This is your new dress code. I expect you to follow this from now on."

Grell was still annoyed, but she took the paper and scanned it quickly. "I'm not allowed to wear any colors except black and white?" she demanded, "and I have to keep my hair pulled back? This is ridiculous!"

"You should be thankful. They wanted to force you to cut your hair."

She gasped and ran one hand through her scarlet strands protectively. "But I don't understand any of this. Why now? I've always stood out, so why is this all coming up now."

"Maybe it's because you insist on chasing after other men," he said coldly.

"What are you talking about, Michael? I haven't done that."

"Oh really?" he sneered as he leaned closer to her face. The anger was beginning to radiate from him and waves and she could see he was truly furious. "Then why were you hanging all over that boy down at the cafeteria. Gave everyone a good show with you throwing yourself at him like that. Didn't you?"

"Do you mean Samuel? I only talked to him! I didn't throw myself at anyone!" Her own anger was rising at this allegation. "Wait a minute. Did this come from the board or from you? Is this just because you're jealous."

"You give me plenty of reason to be jealous," he growled.

"You won't even tell anyone we're dating!" she yelled without concern of being heard through the walls.

"So, that's why you did it," he said, "I won't give you enough attention, so you go looking for it elsewhere. I was so wrong about you. I heard all the rumors, but I ignored everything, but now I see the truth. You really are nothing but a whore."

Grell's fist made solid connect with the right side of Michael's face, and he stumbled back against the door in obvious pain. "Get out," she said, "No one has the right to talk to me like that."

Michael stood slowly as his cheek was already turning dark red from the impact. "For a lady, you certainly hit like a man," he declared in a sullen tone. He slung the folder at her, perhaps attempting to hit her in the face with it, but she caught it easily. "Here's your next assignment," he said, "You should at least try and do your job right." Rubbing his cheek, he left the office.

She was shaking with anger to the point she wasn't sure if she was going to scream or cry. After all, she had done nothing wrong, but Michael had made such horrible accusations simply because she had talked to another man. Samuel was a sweet kid, but he wasn't even her type. Besides, she had already told Michael that she was faithful too many times.

Still filled with rage, she consulted the folder. The next target was in London, so it might be nice to be back in her old stomping ground.

((x))

It didn't take her any time to find the woman in the folder. The picture showed an attractive blonde with striking blue eyes, but the scene about her small home told so much more. Demons were gathered about in loose groups, and it was far more than Grell had ever seen at one time. She knew protocol demanded that she call for backup, but the anger from her fight with Michael was still racing through her veins.

Dropping her cloak, she revved her chainsaw so that it's beautiful, roaring melody echoed through the night. The demons all turned to look at her, their red eyes shimmering with the very fires of Hell.

Which was precisely where she planned to send all of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Her hair and coat whipped behind her like a scarlet cape as she leapt through the night air, and the first demon didn't even have a chance to respond. She saw his face, caught partially between that of his human and demon forms, contort into surprise and fear as she drove her chainsaw effortlessly through his body. Thick blood shot out of the corrupted neck, hanging on the air like the cologne of the damned, and the scent of it made her smile. Even before the demon had hit the ground, she had already freed her blade and swung around to catch a succubus that had been trying to jump her from behind.

Even with all their eyes had undoubtedly seen during their existence, the demons seemed surprised at her ferocity, and a few even retreated without attempting to attack. A rather young demon, who had the face of a boy with the curled horns of a ram growing from his head, jumped forward and managed to cut her arm rather deeply with his clawed hand. The pain only fueled her rage as she turned and effortlessly cut him cleanly in two.

She wasn't sure how long she had fought by the time the last demon fell. Like a blood-soaked madwoman, she laughed manically as she cut and slashed at the lifeless body again and again. Her laughter grew as her body shook with emotion, but then she came to realize something very odd.

She wasn't laughing. She was crying.

All her emotions had come pouring out in that moment, and the tears streamed down her cheeks – undoubtedly mixing the blood that had splattered on her face. Feeling drained and exhausted, she finally turned from the body of the dead demon to examine the woman whose records she had been sent to collect. The blonde's eyes were even more striking then they had been in the picture as she struggled to breathe, but she looked over and locked her gaze on Grell. Like so many before her, she was able to view the face of her reaper in those final moments, but she managed a smile as she mouthed her final words.

"It's over."

The woman's cinematic records didn't struggle nearly as much as the ones Grell had been recently reaping, so the final act was almost anticlimactic, but she still felt drained. She had gotten all of her anger and frustration out while fighting the demons, but now she wasn't sure what she was left with inside. Michael's words had hurt her very deeply, although it wasn't as if she hadn't heard the accusations in the past. She knew there were rumors about her supposed promiscuity despite the fact there was no real truth in most of what was said. The difference, however, were those were tales carried by those who never claimed to care about her. Michael was different. He was supposed to love her, but he had called her a whore simply because she had talked to someone else. Of course, hitting him probably hadn't been the greatest decision on her part, and she did regret her actions. No doubt, she would find that she was suspended for striking a superior was she returned to the office. There was a good chance she would even be demoted, and there was no question that it was all over with Michael.

She ran a hand through her hair and found that it was growing sticky with blood. As beautiful as she found blood with its trailing, crimson fingers and red blossoms, it was a pain to wash out of her hair. There was no use putting off the inevitable, so she decided to head back. Normally, she might have snuck home first to freshen up but decided to make use of the showers located at the office for a change. She still had some fresh clothes stored in her locker, and she might as well be presentable when she was reprimanded.

There was still some hesitation when she created the portal back to her realm, although she immediately stored her scythe. All too often, her precious, unique scythe was the first thing they liked to take away from her, but she held out the tiniest kernel of hope that they might forget to do so if it was stored out of sight. Later, she would carefully wash the blade when she had a few minutes of peace as she had done so many times before. Quietly, she made her way down a long hallway on one of lower levels as she headed for the showers. As it was between shifts, there was no one around at the moment, and she rather hoped that she didn't run into anyone as she didn't feel much like talking at the moment.

She realized that luck was most certainly not on her side when she turned the corner and almost ran into Dr. Brown as he stepped out of the infirmary. Inwardly she cursed, but she managed to greet the doctor with an appropriate smile. "Good evening, Dr. Brown," she said with false cheerfulness.

The doctor's eyes went wide behind his glasses as he stared at her for a moment. "Are you quite okay?" he managed, "You're covered in blood?"

"Oh, but this isn't my blood, doctor," she replied with her sharp toothed smile, "A few demons just got in my way. That's all."

He shook his head, which caused his unruly, white hair to fly about wildly. "And what about this?" He gently took her arm and pointed to where the young demon had managed to claw her. Her shirt was torn badly, and the jagged cut along her skin had only barely begun to heal.

"It's only a scratch," she countered, "I'm really fine."

"A demon's claws can still cause infection," Dr. Brown insisted, "even among healthy reapers. I see that you're heading to the showers. After you wash up, head back here to the infirmary so I can properly clean this wound. Wouldn't want something so minor to keep you from being able to go out into the field."

"I suppose," she relented, although she thought his concern was probably misplaced. There was a good chance that it would be some time before she was allowed back in the field despite her health. "Thank you for your concern." She flashed another one of her smiles before hurrying on towards the showers, but her smile melted away quickly as she walked. There simply wasn't anything to be happy about in this situation.

She hadn't actually used these showers in a long time as she usually preferred to stop at her apartment to clean up quickly. It was technically against the rules, but it was such a common practice that no one said anything about it. Unfortunately, this also meant the clothes in her locker weren't her usual style as she had dressed in much plainer attire at one time. With a bit of irony, she realized that aside from her flowing hair the black jacket, vest, pants, with white dress shirt actually fit Michael's ridiculous dress code. Maybe seeing her dressed like this might even afford her some leniency. The thought forced out a choked laugh as she preceded to the actual shower.

The water was hot, nearly blistering, but she stood there and allowed it to pound on her tired muscles in hopes it could drive out some of her worry. Instead, she only felt more exhausted as she fell back against the wall of the shower and allowed her own hot tears to mix with the water. At least there was no one around to hear her cry. After several minutes, she finally washed herself carefully as she watched the old blood disappear down the drain and out of sight. She only wished she could wash away her troubles that easily.

Wrapping her long hair in a white towel, she put on the fresh, clean clothes and put her soiled ones, except for her beloved coat, in a garment bag with her name stamped on the clear surface. She dropped the bag down a chute to be laundered so that she could pick it up later, but the coat she returned to her locker. After work, she would retrieve it and take it home to wash it by hand. She trusted no one touch that coat other than herself, and she wasn't always so sure about herself.

Still towel drying her hair, she walked back to the infirmary where she found Dr. Brown was waiting on her, but he wasn't alone. Michael was also standing there with an unreadable expression upon his face, but Grell wouldn't allow herself to show how his presence affected her. There was a strong chance he would launch into a tirade right here in the infirmary, but she planned to hold herself with pride regardless. Despite her rising annoyance, she knew that Dr. Brown had only been following procedure when he had contacted Michael.

"Let's have a look at that arm then," Dr. Brown said with a gentle smile.

She unbuttoned her sleeve and pulled it up to show the cut. Without the demon blood surrounding it, the wound looked like little more than a scratch, which seemed to please the doctor. He spread a small amount of ointment over the area to prevent infection and wrapped it lightly with some clean gauze. "This doesn't look so bad," he said, "How many demons were there anyway?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, "Maybe eight or so. I know I killed at least five of them, but a few got away."

"Eight?" Michael gasped, whirling about to grab her upper arms. She winced slightly as he grabbed a bit too closely to where she had been injured. "Why didn't you call for backup?"

"There was no need," she answered through gritted teeth, "I took care of them, didn't I?"

Dr. Brown chuckled. "Young reapers these days are so bold," he said, "but do take care from now on." He patted Grell gently on the back with a kind, almost fatherly smile. "You're all patched up now and ready to go back to work."

"Thank you, Dr. Brown," she said, as she replaced her bland, black jacket.

"Yes, thank you doctor," Michael agreed, "It's important that all of our agents are in proper health. Come on, Sutcliff. You'll need to file an incident report."

"Yes, Mr. Summer," Grell replied with false meekness. She could just feel the tension and knew that Michael was waiting to explode the moment they were alone, but there was little else she could do at the moment. Wordlessly, she followed Michael as they left the infirmary, and she wasn't surprised they were heading towards the back halls towards the service elevators. They weren't likely to run into anyone by walking this way.

The turned the corner that led down to deserted hallway, when Michael suddenly turned to face her. She tensed, waiting for the confrontation, but he wrapped his arms around her instead. "Oh, Grell!" he cried, and to her surprise his voice sounded as if he was on the verge of tears. "I was so worried about you! When the doctor told me you had been injured by a demon, I came down here half expecting to find you torn to ribbons. Why would you do anything so reckless, love?"

Instead of answering his question, she pushed away from his embrace. "Aren't you afraid that someone might see us here?" she hissed, "Someone might think you actually care for me?" She took a few steps away as she struggled not to cry. Despite her pain, Michael didn't deserve to see her tears.

"Grell," Michael said gently, "Are you still upset because we argued? Forget about it, dear. I said things that I didn't mean. Things I should have never said, and you throw a mean punch." He smiled as if to show he wasn't angry, and there was no sign of a bruise since he had a chance to heal. "Just forget all about it."

"It's not that easy," she replied, glancing back over her shoulder. "You really hurt me, Michael. I know what everyone says about me, but I didn't expect to hear from you." Her voice hitched slightly as new tears gathered in her eyes.

He walked over and put his arms around her behind, but this time, she didn't move away. "I should have never have said what I did," he agreed, "I know it's no excuse, but I'm just so terrified of losing you that I went a bit crazy when I saw you with someone else. I've never had anyone that was so precious to me, and I'm scared that someone's going to swoop in and try to steal you away. You're my precious jewel, and I think I'd lock you away in a vault if I could. I just love you so much that I'm afraid I'm a bit jealous."

"Jealousy isn't usually a good thing," she said – echoing Ronald's earlier words to her, but she was already relenting slightly.

"But it's only because I love you."

She looked up at him as tear spilled down her pale cheek. "You say that, but you won't even tell anyone that we're dating," she whispered, "Sometimes, I'm afraid you're embarrassed of me."

He looked at her steadily for several minutes, but then a smile caressed his features. "Never," he said as he wiped away the tear. "If anything, you're too good for me. Come on. I'll prove it to you."

Confused, she allowed him to lead her to the elevator, but he gave no hint to what he was planning. The same mischievous smile head always had when he was planning a surprise was painted on his handsome face, but he only shook his head when she tried to ask him what he was going to do. Soon, they returned to the floor, but this time he took her hand so that they walked out together. There were only a handful of workers in the front lobby at present, and no one seemed to even notice them until Michael began to shout.

"Everyone, I have an announcement!" he began as he held their arms up so that their interlocked hands were on display, "Grell and I are dating. Furthermore, I'm asking her now to take our relationship to the next level. I want this lovely creature to move in with me." He spun her around so that they were standing face to face as if no one else in the room mattered, although she could still their surprised mutterings. "What do you say, rose?" he said, "I want your face to be the last thing I see before I close my eyes at night and the first thing to greet me each morning."

Her breath caught in her throat as her passionate heart threatened to escape the confines of her chest. Just dating someone had begun to almost seem like an impossible fantasy, but now this gorgeous, strong man was actually asking her to move in. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, the worry and doubt nibbled at her like an errant mouse with a piece of discarded cheese, but she pushed far into the darkest shadows of her thoughts. Michael stood here, on the verge of embarrassment if she dared to say no, and had openly expressed his feelings in front of everyone. He did care after all.

"Of course I will," she replied, and a few of spectators even clapped when they kissed passionately. There were the model image of a perfect couple.

After all, even perfect couples had fights from time to time.

((x))

"Welcome to your new home, lovely lady," Michael said as he opened the door to his apartment. Before she could take a step inside, he picked up and carried her across the threshold.

"So, am I your wife now, Mr. Summer?" Grell asked.

He kissed her while still holding her in his arms. "That's what I liked to work towards," he said, "How does Mrs. Grell Summer sound?"

She pretended to muse on the subject for a few moments. "Not too bad," she answered, "I wouldn't even have to change my monogramed towel set."

Laughing, he twirled about as he shut the door. "Let me give you the grand tour," he offered.

"I could walk if you put me down," she laughed, holding on to him tightly in direct contradiction of her words.

"Never!" he cried, "Now that I got you in my arms, I'm never letting you go again." Their laughter intertwined like music as he twirled her about his apartment, which she found was rather large. It was a bit plainer than her usual style of décor, but it was tasteful and classy. He even had a balcony which commanded a glorious view of their realm, but true to his word, he didn't seem to want to let her go. At least, that was the case until he reached the bedroom.

"Red sheets!" she gasped, as she looked down at the bed, "I never dreamed you were the type for red sheets, although it's delicious surprise."

He laid her down gently on the beds and hovered over her with his knees planted on either side of her thighs. His face was already flushed as he smiled, but the look upon his face was almost predatory. She wiggled in anticipation because she had seen that face before and knew exactly where this moment was heading. "I bought them for you, red rose," he said huskily, "because I knew how beautiful you were look spread out on blankets as blood red as your glorious hair. Of course, if I knew how beautiful, I would have brought you here long ago."

It was true that they had never made love in his apartment, but that was the furthest thing from her mind as wrapped her arms about his neck and brought his body down to hers so that not even a whisper could have slipped between their forms.

((x))

Grell sat quietly on the balcony looking up at the full moon, or what appeared to be a full moon. There were times she could genuinely forget that most of what they saw of their realm was fake and only designed to please that part of them that still clung to their former humanity. It actually didn't matter to her that none of this was realm at this moment because it was all so beautiful and peaceful. Inhaling deeply, she threw back her head as she bathed her nude body in the moonlight.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Michael asked from the doorway. Unlike her, he was dressed partially in a pair of pajama pants.

She titled her head back, allowing her hair to fall in a cascade that she knew would draw his eyes. "You have," she replied "but you can always say it more often."

Walking over, he trailed on hand down her shoulder and arm, and she shivered beneath his feathery touch. There were times she felt self-conscious about her own body, but he truly did have a way of making her feel at ease and lovely. "If anyone could see you up here," he whispered against her lips, "It would cause a great a scandal."

"Would that bother you?" she asked, looking up at him teasingly.

"No," he answered, "It would all be worth it for you." He stepped back as a worried look crossed over his features. "But I'm afraid there is the matter of that dress code."

"I thought you had just made all that up because you were jealous," she gasped, "Are you trying to tell me that ridiculous thing is for real?" Her cheerful mood faded as even the brightness of the (fake) moon seemed to pale.

"I was jealous when I came to talk to you," he admitted, "but the dress code is for real. It was brought up in a meeting and not by me." He shook his head. "I'll try to talk to them tomorrow," he added, "Maybe we could get them to agree to some sort of compromise."

"What sort of compromise?"

"What if you don't wear the red coat?" he offered, "Dress the same otherwise, but wear that black jacket you wore this evening instead. Would that be okay?"

She barely held back a small cry when she realized she had left her precious coat in her locker, but she decided not to say anything about that for now. In truth, it did seem like only a minor change to her wardrobe. It wasn't as if they were trying to make her change everything about her appearance. "I guess that would be okay," she finally said, "but please understand that coat is very important to me."

His brow furrowed. "How so? I thought you just took it off some woman you reaped."

"I did," she replied, "but it's more…complicated than that. I'll explain it all to you someday, I promise. Right now, I just don't even know how to start."

"I'll wait then," he said, "but do you agree to wear the black jacket for now?"

"For now."

Smiling, he scooped her back up into her arms and turned to carry back into the apartment. "That's great," he said, "I'm glad we got that settled because I think there are others things we need to attend to."

Her laughter trailed behind her like a happy banner as she laid back comfortably and trusting in his arms.

((x))

The next day started out smoothly for Grell. Waking up at Michael's seemed so normal and comfortable for her, although she had only brought over a few of her belongings. Michael had wanted to bring more, but Grell was a little reluctant to move everything from her place so quickly. Michael didn't seemed to understand Grell's hesitation, almost as if he was afraid this was a sign she was ready to simply run away from him, but she had finally gotten him to understand that this was all still very new to her. They had left that morning for work, arm and arm, as she had once imagined herself with William, but this was no mere daydream. This was reality.

This was perfection.

Michael told her he'd be working late, so she took the time between cases to head down to Dispatch. A few agents noticed her and shouted out greetings. It was nice to feel missed as she headed towards Ronald's desk. Thankfully she arrived before William stepped out on the floor, because it appeared the young reaper was taking a quick nap. Smiling, she stood behind and leaned close to his ear.

"What is the meaning of this, Knox?" she demanded with her best impression of William. Her voice didn't have the right tone, but the words still had the desired effect.

"Uh!" Ronald shouted as he jerked awake, "I was just, uh, resting my eyes, Mr. Spears, honest." He turned, no doubt thinking he'd see William's angry face, but he immediately relaxed when he saw Grell standing there instead. "Senior!" he cried, as he jumped up, "Now that was a mean trick." He was laughing as he spoke. "So what are you up to now?"

"You'll never believe it, Ronnie," she gushed, "Michael asked me to move in with him. He even announced it right there in the main lobby of Upper Management. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Wow! He already asked you to move in? That is amazing – and fast. So things are going good for you two?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Michael has to work late tonight, so let's go out to celebrate. What do you say? It will be my treat."

Ronald pretended to think about it for a moment. "Well, I don't know," he said, "I'll have to deprive some lovely, lonely ladies of my company." She playfully slapped him, and he immediately laughed again. "Sounds great. You want me to come up to your office after work? I wanted to get a look at it anyway."

She readily agreed before hurrying back to the floor where she now worked before she would be late. As usual, there were a few assignments on her desk, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Her good mood continued all the way to lunch time, but then some old trepidation started to surface. While she didn't really want to eat alone, the idea of eating and talking with Samuel again worried her slightly. She genuinely liked Samuel, and they had had a good conversation, but she also didn't want to purposely upset Michael. In truth, she wasn't sure how she would handle the situation as she took her familiar spot at the same lonely table.

As it turned out, it was a fruitless worry as Samuel never showed, but that didn't overly concern her. Agents often switched their lunch hours around if they had something they need to do at a specific time. At least, that had been true for Dispatch, and she assumed it could the same here. Not considering the matter deeply, she ate her lunch all alone once again.

She was heading back to the office when she overheard the gossip. Normally, she ignored gossip since so much was about her, but she had caught the name Samuel as she walked by. Trying not to be too obvious, she listened for a few more minutes and soon learned why she hadn't seen her new friend that day.

It appeared that Samuel had been transferred.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry I took so long to update this story. This was rough chapter to write._

 **Chapter 6:**

Grell stood silently in the hallway as she listened to the gossip; her heart thudding guiltily in her chest. The two women, secretaries that usually worked the front office, continued their conversation lightly, as if they were talking about nothing more than the women.

"He was transferred already?" asked the one with the brown, bouncy curls. While she said surprised, there was almost a gleeful edge to her voice that grated Grell's nerves.

The other woman nodded as she carefully arranged her blonde, straight hair. "I just finished up the paperwork," she explained, "although I have no idea where they're sending Samuel too next."

"He only worked here two days!" exclaimed the brunette, "That must be some sort of record! What did he do?"

"I have no idea," the other woman replied, "but it must have been bad. I heard that the order was put in yesterday for him to be immediately transferred."

"Hasn't he already been transferred several times?"

"That's what I heard."

The women's voices began to drift off as they walked back to their desks, and Grell immediately turned and walked swiftly towards Michael's office. She only hoped that she was just being paranoid that Michael hadn't transferred Samuel just because he had talked to her in the cafeteria. Surely, there must be another reason. She struggled to keep her nervous energy under control as she came to Michael's door and knocked.

"Enter," Michael's voice called.

Grell opened the door and stepped inside the office, careful to close the door behind her. Michael's face lit into a bright smile when he saw her, and he immediately stood up from his desk and crossed the room.

"Grell," he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a gentle kiss. "What are you doing here?"

She hesitated slightly, which she realized was unlike her. When had she gotten so hesitant? "Darling," she began, "I have a question. It might upset you, but there's something I need to know."

He tilted his head as he looked down at her with a perplexed expression. "What is it?" he asked.

"Did you have Samuel transferred?"

He stepped back and straightened his jacket slightly. "No," he answered, "but what if I had? Would that mean something to you?" The edge in his voice was evident, and Grell regretted her decision to come here. She should have known it would lead to another argument.

"I just wouldn't want someone sent away because of me," she explained quickly, "I don't want someone punished just for speaking to me."

There was an awkward pause, but then she saw Michael's face soften. "You were worried that it was your fault," he stated, as apparent realization swept over his features, "Oh, my dear, sweet Grell, it had nothing to do with you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," he replied, "Samuel was a sweet kid, but he was also a walking disaster. He made a mess out of the reports he was supposed to be handling that will take us weeks to correct. I wasn't even the one who put in the request to have him transferred. It had nothing to do with you or anything you did."

Relief flooded her body as she felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "That's good to hear," she said, leaning forward, "although I do feel sorry for the boy."

"Don't worry about him, dear," Michael returned, "I'm sure he'll find his place here soon. Now, is there anything else, or am I'm just getting to enjoy your company without any complications?"

She giggled before kissing him. "Sadly, my dashing prince, I suppose I have to return to work now." She stepped back and placed her hand on the doorknob as he returned to his desk. "Are you still planning on working late again tonight?" she asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"I was thinking about joining a friend for drinks after work," she answered, but she immediately regretted her words. It was almost as if she was asking for permission, and she had carefully excluded Ronald's name. While she wasn't being dishonest, she did regret the feeling she couldn't tell Michael everything.

"That sounds nice," he said casually, "Have fun."

There was no questions or arguments, which made her feel even more relieved. She walked back to her own office to receive her assignments, but she still couldn't dispel the nagging feelings that there was more to this issue with Samuel.

((x))

Grell recognized Ronald's playful knock on her door the moment the clock indicated that working hours were over, and she smiled to herself. He had never wanted to work one second overtime, and it appeared that certain things hadn't changed. "Come in, Ronnie," she called, as she put away a folder.

"How did you know it was me?" Ronald asked as he opened the door. Looking about the office, his eyes grew wide behind his large frames. "Wow! You really have done well! This is bigger than Mr. Spears' office."

"A little," she agreed.

"But I'm surprised you haven't decorated it more," he added, "I mean, there's barely an red in here. I figured your office would look like it was bleeding."

She laughed, but there was a certain amount of nervousness lacing her laughter that she hoped that Ronald didn't detect it. Even though she had now been in her new office for several weeks, she still had no idea how to decorate it. Normally, she would have just gone with her own style regardless of what anyone thought, but now she worried about what Michael might think and how it might reflect on him since he had so boldly announced that they were in a relationship. "I'm still trying to decide on the perfect accessories," she said, "Good interior design takes time and effort – and I don't make places look like they're bleeding." She tossed an eraser playfully at his head. "You've been to my house."

He ducked. "I guess so," he said, as if relenting, "So, are you ready to go?"

"I'm always ready," she answered.

((x))

"So, what's been happening down in dispatch lately?" Grell asked, before taking a sip of her drink. This was Ronald's favorite pub and, while it was a bit too noisy and crowded for Grell's taste, it was nice to get out to do things she used to do.

"Nothing much," Ronald answered with a dismissive nod, "Same old stuff every day. We really do miss you though. No one even uses your desk. There were some jokes at first, but…" His voice trailed off suddenly, and it seemed that he had said too much.

"What kind of jokes?" she prodded.

"It's not important," he answered quickly.

She looked at him for a moment, knowing exactly what everyone was probably saying, and feeling a bit sorry for Ronald since she realized he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "I know that everyone talks about me, Ronnie," she said in a quiet tone, "I'm not as oblivious to it as I act. Let me guess, they're all whispering that I slept my way into a promotion."

"Something like that," he admitted, "But I know that's the not the truth, and I have told them."

"It's okay," she said, placing one of her hands on his, "I know how they talk, it doesn't bother me anymore, but thanks for trying to defend what left of my honor."

He took a long drink. "So, I guess things are going good with Michael," he said, obviously trying to change the subject, "What's his place like?"

"Things are great," she said just a tad too enthusiastically, "And his apartment is huge. It even has this balcony that has the best view." She presented Ronald with a wicked smile. "I like to sit out there nude and just wonder what all the neighbors think."

Ronald laughed, but it became clear that he had picked up on her nervous vibe. "Are you really happy?" he asked, "You seem a little nervous sometimes, and, well, not really yourself."

She stared down into her glass as if the answer was waiting at the bottom. "I am happy," she finally said, "but I suppose I'm nervous as well. I've never….really been in a serious relationship like this before." Sighing softly, she raised her eyes as she continued her confession. "I've dated other men, but it never really seem to go on beyond a few dates. Most were just curious if I was as crazy or as promiscuous as the rumors said."

Ronald watched carefully and kindly as she spoke without offering to interrupt. He seemed to understand that she needed to say these things even it wasn't easy. "What was even worse," she continued, "Is that I were intimate with some of them even knowing this. I shouldn't have, but I was lonely. I needed to feel loved sometimes, so I would sleep with them even though I knew I was only adding to my bad reputation." A single tear escaped her eye and slipped down her cheek before dripping from her chin.

"Senior," Ronald said softly.

"But it's all over with now," she announced, as she wiped away the remnants of the tear, "I am nervous at times, because I'm scared I'll do something to mess up my relationship. It always seems like I'm saying or doing the wrong thing, but I guess it's all just a learning process. Michael's made some mistakes too, but we're working on it together."

"That's good," stated Ronald, before looking down. "I, uh, know what you meant about being scared of messing up a relationship."

"You do? I thought Mr. Smooth Style Knox had it all under control."

He smiled weakly and shook his head. "I have no problem with dating," he explained, "but I'm scared of being in a committed relationship – terrified even. It's not that I'm so scared of being just one girl, it's just that I'm scared of…of…Well, I'm not sure what I'm scared of, but I'm scared."

"I guess we're all a little scared," Grell said before finishing off her glass, "but you just need to look at from a new angle. So, which ladies are you dating now?"

Ronald's trademark grin reappeared as if it had never vanished as he began telling her about his most recent date. He bragged just as he always had before, but she had a new respect for the younger reaper. She had long since suspected he was afraid of long term commitments, but this was the first time he had ever admitted it openly, which must have taken quite a bit of courage. Although it had been difficult to discuss, she had felt better afterwards and he seemed to as well. Leaving behind the heavy topics, they finished the evening with easy laughter and conversation.

After leaving Ronald, she returned to the office to retrieve her red coat which was still stored in the locker. She felt a bit guilty that she had almost forgotten about it, but so much had been going on over the past few days. Saying goodbye to the guard on evening duty, she decided to return to her own apartment first to take care of her coat before going to Michael's place. After all, he still didn't understand the importance of this coat.

Nothing had changed down her old street, but it was foolish to have expected it to change practically overnight. Whistling a happy yet long forgotten tune, she walked up the steps and put her key in the lock.

It refused to turn.

Frowning, she jiggled the keys and tried again, but the result was the same. For whatever reason her key no longer worked, although she couldn't make sense of it. She checked again to make sure she was using the right key and this was the door to her apartment, but everything else seemed to be just fine. The only issue was that her key no longer unlocked her door.

She stood there a few minutes, turning things over in her mind, but she realized there was nothing she could do by just standing here. Still perplexed, she made the sure trek to Michael's apartment. She could have easily created a portal, but she did enjoy walking, and that was especially true when she had things on her mind. Her rent automatically came from her paycheck, so that shouldn't have been an issue. Perhaps a mix-up had occurred when she had gotten the promotion. For now, that was the only thing that made sense.

Michael's door was unlocked, and she was surprised to hear him in the kitchen when she arrived since she thought he'd still be working. "Is that you, Grell?" he called from inside the kitchen where she could smell savory aromas began to waft.

"Yes, darling," she called back, "I didn't expect you to be home so early." Taking off her shoes and placing them on the shoe rack by the door. "I stopped by my apartment this evening, but my key didn't work. Do you know if my rent is still being held out of my paycheck?"

Michael stepped to the doorway as he wiped his hands on a dishtowel. "You don't have rent being held out anymore," he replied, "I went by this evening and told them you didn't need that tiny place anymore."

"You did what?" she exclaimed, "Michael, where are my things?"

"We didn't have room for everything in the apartment," he said, "so I had most of them put into storage, but I did put some of your clothes in the closet." He walked forward with a strange look on his face. "You don't seem happy, my dear," he said, "I just did it as a surprise to let you know I really want you to be a part of my life."

Grell figuratively bit her tongue. A part of her wanted to rage at how tired she was at Michael's surprises and that he had overstepped his boundaries once again, but she knew that would only lead to another fight. After all, she was in a relationship now and that took a bit of effort. She had to try to make this work even if that did mean she had to change the way she normally acted. After all, it was only a little change.

"That was sweet of you," she said, stepping forward to close the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him, "although it did surprise me. What are you making for dinner, dear?"

"I decided to make some nice roasted duck," he answered with a smile. With those few words she had seemingly smoothed over the upcoming argument before it had even erupted. Stepping back, he pointed to the bag that still hung on her arm. "What's that?"

"It's my coat," she replied, holding it a little closer to her as if protecting it, "I had left it in my locker at work after fighting the demons."

He eyed it for a few moments. "Okay," he said in an odd tone, "Go ahead and get comfortable. We'll be ready to eat soon."

"Of course," she said, "You're too good to me Michael." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she took her coat to the bathroom so that it soak. As she walked back through the bedroom, she quickly peeked into the closet and saw that Michael had only gotten her older, less stylish of clothes, and she didn't even recognize a few of the pants. She would talk to him later and get the rest of her clothes out of storage. It was annoying, but it was easy enough to correct, so she decided to worry about as she changed into something more comfortable so she could enjoy the undoubtedly delicious dinner that Michael had prepared.

((x))

Grell stood in front of the closet door, wearing on a pajama top, and staring with disgust at her clothing choices for the day. While she had intended to go to retrieve the rest of her clothing the night before, she had gotten sidetracked. Michael had wanted to know more about the red coat and its significance to her, but Grell had felt unusually hesitant to offer up all the information. In truth, it was hard to explain to someone else because it was hard enough to make sense of in her own mind. She didn't know how to explain how she had truly believed that she had been in love with Ann yet had killed her when she had shown weakness – the thing that Grell feared most within herself. Unfortunately, she hadn't had a chance to ask Michael where her clothes were stored.

"Michael," she began, without turning around, "Where are my clothes?"

"Hmm?" He still was half asleep, but he managed to sit up in bed as he a hand through his tousled hair. "They're right there."

"These are my old clothes," she answered, "I'm not even sure whose pants these are. They're too big for me."

He yawned loudly as he put on his glasses and walked over to her. "Those are yours. I bought them for you yesterday."

"But they're too big," she reiterated.

"Grell," he began in a serious voice, "I had another meeting yesterday about the dress code. The other members felt your wore your pants just a bit too tight, and that it could cause a distraction."

"Then maybe those old coots shouldn't be staring at my butt," she returned, giggling slightly, as he reached into the closet to see if there was any other pants that she had looked over.

Without warning, he grabbed her and spun her around, his hands digging into her arms painfully. "Who are you wearing those tight pants for anyway?" he shouted, spittle flying into her face, "You just want all those men to look at you. Right?"

"Michael, let go," she, amazed that she could speak so calmly, "That's how I like my pants, and I only wear them for myself."

"Yeah, right," he grumbled, shoving her away slightly. "Like anyone would stare at your skinny arse anyway." He stomped into the bathroom, muttering to himself the entire time. "You want to be treated like a woman," he said, "but you have all the curves of a 12 year old boy." The door slammed behind him and Grell was left alone with his words.

She took in several deep breaths and she considered what Michael had said. While it was certainly true that she wasn't as curvy as she would have liked, she had been under the assumption that Michael still found her attractive. He had always made her feel that way in the past, but now she had to wonder. Slowly, she walked over to a full length mirror and turned sideways. Previously, she had been told her posterior was one of her better physical features, but it was clear it was far too small with not nearly enough flare about the hips. It was too skinny. No one would have any interest in looking at it.

Feeling her confidence melt unto the carpeted floor, she returned to the closet and dressed slowly in the clothes that Michael had chosen for her. The pants hung on her, which would have normally been a problem, but she no longer cared. After brushing her hair, she didn't take the time to even put on any makeup before leaving the apartment. It's not like anyone was going to notice anyway.

((x))

Michael didn't speak to her at all that day, which only broke Grell's heart more as worked on her assignments. Other than to collect those records, she barely stepped out of her office. She didn't want to see anyone but, more importantly, she didn't want anyone to see her. There were always days when she felt unattractive and simply wrong, but today was the worst she had ever felt. With Michael, she had felt beautiful and feminine, but now she felt more like a homely freak then she ever had before. She almost wanted to go to his office and beg for his forgiveness, although she had no idea what she had done wrong. Perhaps, just being herself was wrong enough.

After work, Michael was nowhere to be seen, so Grell hurried to their apartment to begin dinner. While she wasn't quite the cook that Michael was, she was competent enough in the kitchen to create some delicious meals. Perhaps some good food would help with mending their relationship.

Unfortunately, Michael didn't get home until very late. The food had grown cold, as Grell's heart had while she had waited on the couch. He didn't say a word as he stepped aside and only allowed his eyes to graze her for a second as he removed his shoes.

"I made dinner," she offered, "I can heat it up for you if you like."

He didn't answer as he walked over to her and towered over her seated form. "You didn't tell me the friend you went out with was Knox," he said.

Her mouth gaped open briefly. "I told you it was a friend," she replied, "but I would have told you it was Ronnie if you asked. It wasn't a big deal."

Growling, he lifted her off of the sofa by her arms. "It was a big deal!" he shouted, "Now everyone at the office is laughing at me. I allow you to move in with me, and you go out behind my back, like the little trollop you are, and go out with Knox. Is that who the tight pants and makeup is for?"

"Ronnie's just my friend!" she cried, "We just went out to talk, and he was telling me how happy he was that I found someone like you." Tears began stinging her eyes as she wiggled out of his grasp. "Why are you so jealous are the time? You need to trust me. Why can't you? Are you the one cheating or something?"

The sound of him slapping her across the face echoed throughout the room, and she could only stare at him in shock. "You hit me," she finally said.

He laughed bitterly. "Just returning the favor, sweetheart," he retorted, "Remember, you hit me first. It's your fault that it's come to this."

He lunged for her again, but she moved out of the way. Turning, she started for the door, but he grabbed her by her long hair and jerked her back. She cried out in pain, but the anger was now taking over her sense. Spinning around, she slammed her fist into his nose before he could hit her. Yelling, he shoved her, and her knees hit the couch, which caused her to fall backwards. He jumped forward to pin her arms, but she did manage to kick him first.

She was very strong, and she knew that, but her talent was more with her scythe or some other weapon to give her a bit of reach. Hand to hand, her smaller statue put her at a disadvantage with Michael, and she realized that as he pinned her down.

Horrible, vile names spilled from his lips as he spit in her face and repeatedly hit her. She still struggled and fought, occasionally managing to land an off-balance blow, but Michael was the one in control. He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, and it was almost as if he was going to kiss her although she knew that such sweet gestures were the furthest thing from his mind.

"Now I can see why you've not been in many relationships," he hissed, "Who can stand you? You need to understand one thing, babe. I'm the best you'll ever get. I'm the only one who will ever put up with you." He struck her in the face, and she could feel it was bleeding, before dragging her to her feet by her hair. She was barely aware she was being pushed outside until she felt the cool, night air against her bruised and bleeding skin.

"Get out," he growled.

"Where am I supposed to go?" she demanded.

"I don't care," came the swift reply as the door slammed home.

Angry, she stomped down the street, but soon her anger melted into sadness and pain. Crying bitterly, she walked about rather aimlessly for she had no place to go or to even call home. She was all alone.


End file.
